Have A Little Talk With
by Gary Merchant
Summary: Following his first regeneration, the Doctor receives an unexpected visitor.


HAVE A LITTLE TALK WITH MYSELF  
  
He stared at his reflection for some time, pulling his face this way and that. He still wasn't happy with it, but for a first regeneration it hadn't worked out too badly. Sighing, the Doctor tossed the mirror into the open wooden chest.  
  
"That could've been seven years bad luck, you know."  
  
"What!" He turned around. "Oh, it's you, Ben." The Doctor seemed relieved, but not content.  
  
"Are you all right, Doctor?" Ben asked. "You've been quiet ever since we left Vulcan."  
  
"Oh, you noticed." He appeared quite sheepish.  
  
"Well, you were haring around trying to sort out the Daleks. Now, you seem a bit . . . withdrawn, I suppose." Ben had a thought. "This renewal process - are you - the new you - um, oh what's the word?"  
  
"Stabilised?" The Doctor suggested.  
  
"Yeah, that's it."  
  
"I wish I knew, Ben," he replied. "It's the first time this has ever happened to me. Physically, I'm fine. I just have to sort our my mental processes." He tapped the side of his head.  
  
"You're not going round the twist, are you?" Ben was concerned. Not for himself, but for Polly.  
  
"Round the twist?" The Doctor seemed mildly offended. "No, nothing like that."  
  
"What then?"  
  
"Well, think about it," he said. "No sooner had I changed, then we were on Vulcan trying to convince Lesterson and everyone about the Daleks. And there were the Cybermen before that."  
  
Ben sympathised. "Not exactly a quiet time, eh Doctor?"  
  
"Exactly. And a bit of peace and quiet is what I need, to settle into my new persona." He spread his arms wide. "And here, in the Cloister Room, is the best place."  
  
"I'd better leave you to it, then." Ben grinned and made a tactful exit.  
  
The Doctor sighed again. "He's a good chap, is Ben."  
  
"I always thought so," agreed another voice. "Young and impetuous, but fiercely loyal, hmm?"  
  
The Doctor turned to see his former self standing before him. "Oh, no! What are you doing here?"  
  
"Now, now," chided the old man. "Don't refuse help when it's offered, there's a good fellow." He strolled towards the Doctor, not a trace of age or infirmity in his movements. "It seems this happens with every first regeneration."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"When one of our kind regenerates for the first time," the first Doctor explained, "the original host returns briefly, to help with the process."  
  
"Well, of all the nerve!" The Doctor was indignant. "Anyone would think I couldn't look after myself."  
  
His former self ignored the rebuke. "Oh, fiddle faddle," he scoffed. "I know you put on a front for those youngsters out there, but that won't work with me."  
  
Shamefaced, the Doctor nodded, accepting the truth. "I know," he admitted. "I just never realised what it would be like."  
  
"Do you think I had any clue?" The old man's tone was stern but kindly. "I don't recall having much choice in the matter."  
  
"No, we didn't, did we?" The two of them sat together - one at the end of his life, the other just starting out. "Such confusion and pain," the new incumbent remembered.  
  
"But that's all gone, now?"  
  
"Yes," he replied. "Now I'm just . . . confused. I feel as though I have so much energy, but can't control it properly yet."  
  
"That will come in time, as each successive regeneration becomes easier," the old man assured him. "As this is your first ever renewal, your body will take some time to settle."  
  
"I understand that," the Doctor reasoned. "But for how long?"  
  
"A few days, perhaps," came the reply. "As long as you don't exert yourself." He tut-tutted. "How you could go chasing after the Daleks in the state you were in, I just don't know."  
  
"You can talk," the Doctor pointed out. "Who was it who faced off against the Cybermen in his final days?"  
  
The first Doctor became flustered. "That's totally beside the point," he barked. Then he caught the mischievous twinkle in his new self's eye - a trait they both shared. And he smiled. "I suppose you'll do just as you please."  
  
"I suppose I will. As did you."  
  
"True, my boy. Quite true." They stood up. "Well, almost time to go." He stretched out a hand. "Good luck."  
  
The Doctor took the proffered hand and shook it. "I hope I can live up to your high ideals."  
  
"You'll manage, I'm sure." The old man stepped back a pace, then gently faded away.  
  
The Doctor was alone once more in the Cloister Room. After a moment, he let out a breath. "Well, I'm glad that's over! Now, where are Ben and Polly . . ."  
  
As he strode off in the direction of the console room, the old man briefly reappeared. "Yes, he'll manage," he smiled. "I just hope the universe is ready for him." 


End file.
